Chocolate chips versus raisins

a beautiful grass from my garden - I don't remember the name

Today I have been making blueberry mini-cakes and chocolate chip oatmeal cookies.  Blueberries are great in just about anything, in my opinion.  I love to make blueberry reductions and spread them over things, just a simple concoction of blueberries and a very small amount of sugar that is heated up and simmered for quite a while until the juices have released, the skins have softened, and then all of that reduces to a smaller thicker portion.  Great stuff.

Ghirardelli semi-sweet chocolate chips

Now as to the chocolate chip oatmeal cookies ... actually the original recipe calls for raisins.  However, I always replace raisins with chocolate chips in cookies.  I have to admit that I have never been able to develop a liking for raisins, neither the flavor nor the texture.  In fact, I always melodramatically ask the same question of people (rhetorically, of course):  "How can anyone do that to a grape?"

To take a grape, a marvelous product of nature, and dry it out, wrinkle it up, and change the flavor and texture so thoroughly, well, I just can't figure it out.  I know, I know, many people love to gobble raisins like jelly beans for a snack.  But I would much rather stick with the original grape.

So ... anytime a cookie calls for raisins, chocolate chips are substituted.  Of course, I have to find the right chocolate chip.  They are not all created equal.  Chocolate chips that are often found in my kitchen include Valrhona, Michel Cluizel, Cacao Barry, and smaller amounts of Ghirardelli and sometimes Guittard.  A few others make their way from time to time.  Yes, I know a couple favorites that are found in many kitchens are not included (I won't mention their names, although they start with "N" and "H"), but there it is .... they are not among my favorites.

As we are heading past the mid-point of summer, I am looking forward to putting in my fall order of chocolate.  It's always fun to replenish my stocks and pick a few new varieties to try out.  And especially to start thinking about cooler weather and hot chocolate.

Well, it's time to pull the blueberry mini-cakes out of the oven.  The aroma is rich and fruity, and I can hardly wait to taste them.

Have a great evening, everyone!

First aroma

rudbeckia

There is a moment when one is baking that is exquisite.  OK, maybe that's hyperbolic to use such a term, but it is a moment that I look forward to every time I put something in the oven.  This past weekend I made brownies.  Brownies are incredible, of course ... is there anyone who doesn't think that?  Even before they go into the oven, they are incredible.  The batter has a fantastic taste and texture.  The batter even looks wonderful sitting in the pan before the baking has started.  But then you put them in the oven and you wait.  And for several minutes, you just wait.  I often use those minutes to tidy up the kitchen, wash the utensils and bowls and wipe down the countertop.  Or sit down and play a blitz game of chess online.

brownie batter

And then, after some minutes, you get that first faint aroma of brownies coming from the oven and then it strengthens and seems to surround you.  It doesn't happen right away.  It takes several minutes.  But when it comes, it seems to fill the kitchen very quickly and leaves no doubt that something amazing will soon be pulled from the oven.

That moment of the first aroma of something baking is akin to watching the first snowflake of winter settle to the ground, or hearing the first crack of the bat on opening day of spring baseball, or watching the opening scene of a movie you've been waiting all year to see.  It is singular.  It is there for just that moment and then it blends into the rest of time and becomes part of the flow of time instead of being a moment that exists by itself.

That is an "exquisite" moment.

Solutions

speculoos

Cooking is a combination of things.  It's utilitarian.  It's peace-inducing (at least for me). And it's creative.  The creativity comes not just in coming up with tasty combinations of flavors and textures, and so forth, but also in finding interesting ways to do things.

For instance, the speculoos in the photos above.... I could cut them using standard cookie cutters or biscuit cutters, but I choose instead to cut them using a pizza wheel.  I really enjoy doing that.  It's fun, it allows for creating unusual and whimsical shapes, spontaneous and unique.  And it's so easy and very very quick to do.  Certain cookies I would never dream of using a pizza wheel to cut.  I love making round frosted vanilla sugar cookies, and for me part of the allure is that perfect roundness with that layer of frosting on top that is not quite round since it's applied by hand and hence has inconsistencies from cookie to cookie.  So that combination of very round versus not quite round I find interesting and fun to do do.  It's a creative combination of perfection and imperfection. And I love imperfection.  I always like to say that perfection is a commodity too often sought.    

For me, creative and interesting ways of doing things often result from simply trying to find solutions to something that is not quite what I want, or to something that is more work than I feel it should be.  

Once up on a time I used to pour honey into a tablespoon and then empty that into a mixing bowl, often a bowl filled with what would shortly become bread dough.  I like a few different types of bread that have a little bit of honey in them, sometimes in place of sugar, sometimes in addition to sugar.  Anyway ... when I would pour the honey out, it would always cling to the tablespoon and I felt compelled to work at getting every little bit out that I could while the honey worked counter to that and tried to cling to the spoon.  Then I discovered that if I dipped the spoon in vegetable oil before filling it with honey, the coating of the oil made the honey slip completely off the spoon, leaving very little residue behind.  I have always found that to be very satisfying, to know that the exact amount I'm measuring out is going into the bowl with no real effort on my part to make it happen.

It's very satisfying to look around the kitchen for solutions to things like that.  If I find a way to do something that does not require buying yet another tool or gadget, that's something rewarding to me on multiple levels.  That being said, sometimes solutions are few in number.  I love using garlic and my garlic press is the best tool I can think of to crush that garlic, release the outer husk, and give me an easy way to put garlic in things without resorting to dicing into smaller and smaller bits or smashing it with the side of a knife or the bottom of a mug, neither of which pulverizes the garlic in the same way that a press will.  When I think about what I spent to procure a good garlic press, it seems out of proportion sometimes with respect to how restricted the use of this tool is.  Perhaps there are other ways to use this tool, but so far I haven't discovered them.  It's a garlic tool and only a garlic tool. 

That's OK, though.  I also find it tremendously satisfying to crush garlic cloves in that press.  I don't know why, but I do.   

Combinations

brownie batter

Sometimes I go to the kitchen and check out the contents of the fridge and the pantry, looking at meal leftovers, or a single tortilla left in a bag, or a small quantity of cream remaining from a quart, and I think about what I can do with them in combination.  I'm one of those people who hates to see anything go to waste.  That doesn't mean everything has to be eaten, though, because as long as I attempt to create something new with bits and pieces and small portions of things, well, then I'm happy, even if that something new is not tasty or even near palatable.  "Not even near palatable" rarely happens, though, because honestly most foods in combination with each other are probably going to be edible, even it not a gourmet creation.  

I've accidentally created new types of wraps by taking that last tortilla left in a bag (that might not be eaten otherwise) and warming it up and then filling it with leftover leaves of lettuce and sautéed vegetables and grated cheese and chopped boiled eggs, or any number of things in combination.  There are so many possibilities that just don't show up in a recipe book, that are sometimes simply the product of spur-of-the-moment inspiration (or sometimes even bored inspiration).

This past weekend, I made lots of brown sugar fudge brownies that went out the door to family and friends.  Cookie doughs are always tasty, as are cake batters, and brownie batters are amazingly delicious right out of the bowl without any cooking, especially if they have chopped up chocolate in them.  As I was preparing brownie batter this past weekend I was left with the enviable job of cleaning up the bowl afterwards with a nice silicone spatula (not a "silicon spatula", that would be something totally different) that allowed me to scrape the sides clean.  The dregs of the yummy brownie batter on the spatula made quite a nice little snack in the wee hours of the morning while the sun was just starting to illuminate the neighborhood.  (See, even just thinking about that brownie batter makes me wax pseudo-rhapsodic!)

As I sat there working on that batter-covered spatula, I wondered if one could frost a cake with brownie batter, and I imagined a deep dark chocolate three-layer cake with loads of rich batter in between the layers and a thick layer of batter on top with grated white chocolate sprinkled over like snow.  That's an interesting sounding combination.  I know that chocolate pudding on a refrigerated cake is pretty darn good.  But brownie batter?  I have no idea how it would taste, how the combination of textures would work, or whether the brownie batter would completely overwhelm the chocolate cake.  But it seems to me it might be worth trying sometime.  Although if it doesn't work, then I've wasted an entire chocolate cake and an entire batch of brownies, and that would be a shame.  But the idea sounds nice to me.  Does it sound nice to anyone else?

Have a great week, everyone!

A very easy pizza sauce

the slowly disappearing remnant of my summit ash tree

Good evening, everyone.  Someone recently asked me about pizza sauces, so I thought I would toss out a very easy, simple, uncomplicated sauce.  This weekend we're in the middle of the worst heat of the summer so far, and so perhaps working over a hot stove isn't uppermost in the average's person mind at the moment.  But when it cools off a bit and you get a hankering for making your own pizza, here's a great sauce to try. This is an amalgam of a few different recipes I've tried over the years, and it works really well.

Chop up a small onion and measure out 60 grams.  I prefer to chop it very fine, but it won't hurt to have larger pieces if that's what you really want.  Put the onion aside for now.  Add 3 or 4 tablespoons of olive oil to a saucepan and heat it up.  Then add a garlic clove.  I prefer to put it through a garlic press, but you can also just smash it with the side of a knife or the bottom of a mug.  Just make sure to remove the papery outer covering after smashing or pressing.  After tossing in the garlic, toss in the chopped onion as well and reduce the heat a bit.  Cook all that in the hot oil for 5 or 6 minutes, maybe even a couple more.  You should remove the smashed garlic clove but if you have used a press you have to leave it in since it's not possible to remove all the little bits.

Add a 28-ounce can of crushed tomatoes including the juice.  A small amount of salt and course ground pepper goes in next, 1/2 teaspoon of each, and then I always add a teaspoon of sugar for just a touch of sweetness.  You can add a bit more if you really like your pizza sauce sweet, but I just like a hint of sweetness. 

Now let this all cook on low heat for about 30 to 40 minutes, more or less, depending on your own definition of "low heat".  Stir this from time to time and watch how the tomatoes break down more and more until you have a smooth, more even sauce.  For me, I like to see this sauce reduce a bit until a dipped spoon reveals the consistency and viscosity that I want.  There's no right or wrong, rather it's about your own preference.

Sometimes I will also add a couple tablespoons of grated parmesan and/or romano as the sauce is reducing.  You can add a bit of chopped basil if you want, or oregano, whatever herbs you find appealing.  

Or not.  Just plain without the herbs and cheese is great.  Simple, easy, and delicious.

basic pizza sauce

Ice on a hot summer day

birdbath from my yard

Today is July 14th.  It's a hot day, just like yesterday, and just like tomorrow will be ... oh, wait a minute.... I see the forecast calls for thunderstorms tomorrow and a temperature only in the 80s.  The birds will still spend time in my front yard birdbath, but at least they will be cooler.  If I filled the birdbath with ice, it would melt very quickly but the birds would probably love the chilly water.  Now ... why am talking about a hot summer day and ice in the birdbath?   Read on.

On today's date, 170 years ago, something significant happened that concerned ice.  Dr. John Gorrie, a medical doctor, gave a dramatic demonstration.  First a little background.  Gorrie spent some time researching tropical diseases, and part of that research included cooling down sickrooms for patients using ice in a container suspended from the ceiling.  He was doing this research while living and working in Florida.  Of course, it was not easy to get ice in Florida in the early-to-mid 1800s, so he began thinking about how to make ice on his own.

Gorrie was born in 1803.  By the time 1845 rolled around, he decided to abandon his medical practice and devote his time completely to refrigeration.  Soon he had a working prototype for a machine that used compressors to chill air enough to freeze water.  In 1848 he applied for a patent.  But he lacked the financial resources to even consider making a dent in the block-ice industry.   The patent was not granted until 1851.  But in July of 1850, on the 14th, he gave a dramatic demonstration at a party given in recognition of Bastille Day, an event put on by the French consul in Florida.  Just after mentioning the dismal aspects of drinking warm wine on a hot summer day, Gorrie signaled to waiters to bring in sparkling wine on trays filled with copious amounts of ice.  It was a sensation!  People talked about it and the press wrote about it, amazed at the appearance of artificially made ice on a hot humid summer day in Florida.

a Gorrie ice machine in the John Gorrie Museum

But Gorrie's machines were inefficient and not always sealed well, and notwithstanding that dramatic presentation, over the next couple years no progress was made from a business perspective.  His partner died, and then just a few years later in 1855, Gorrie died as well, never seeing his work made into a success.  

But Gorrie's dramatic show made one thing clear: making ice mechanically was worth pursuing.  Others before him and after him contributed as part of long chain of events that leads up to our modern day refrigeration capabilities.  But that event on that sunny Florida day was significant.  

I have always been fascinated by the history of artificially produced cold.  There is a fantastic book on the subject titled Absolute Zero and the Conquest of Cold that I've read more than once.  It's worth the time if you are so inclined.

If not, that's OK.  Enjoy your iced drinks anyway.  I know I will.  I'm going to make lemon slush tonight, something that I've been drinking since I was a kid.  It is a simple crushed ice drink, nothing complicated, but just the right thing to have on this hot summer evening in Kansas City.

Have a great week, everyone!

Bruschetta and blueberry muffins

It has been a very warm day here in Kansas City, low 90s.  As I write this about 7:00 PM (early for me since I usually do these blog posts after 9:00 PM in the evenings), it's dipped down into the 80s.  At least we have a low tonight that will drop below 70.  But during the day, the heat has made the entire neighborhood very quiet as few people are out and about.  Tom, our resident feline here, spent much of the day enjoying the coolness of the house on a spot on top of a couch, just lazing the day away.

the last of my brother's bruschetta - toasted a bit dark by me
and tastes excellent

I, on the other hand, got quite few things done early and then relaxed through the afternoon.  I grazed a lot all morning long as there was food leftover from yesterday when my brother came to visit and we made some great food and then played Strat-o-matic Baseball for much of the day, replaying that incredible 1957 World Series between Milwaukee and New York.  My brother made great bruschetta for us and we had cookies and scones from me, and a smattering of other things as well.  So today I enjoyed the leftovers while I was working on another tweak in the long process of creating a blueberry muffin with very specific qualities.

I've been working on this particular blueberry muffin off and on for a while.  They come out close, but never exactly what I'm looking for in terms of appearance, texture, and balance of flavors, etc.  They are a slightly different blueberry muffin from what most people are used to, heavy on vanilla, a moderate amount of fresh blueberries (sometimes wild, sometimes not, as I go from tweak to tweak), a layer of blueberry reduction, and a final flourish of lemon sugar heavily sprinkled on top.  As I said, I've been working on tweaking this for a while.  I do one tweak in the mixing process, then another in the portion sizing, then another in the amount of time the blueberry reduction is on the stove before it goes on top of the muffin batter, and so on and so on.  It's a long process (*chuckling here*) but when I eventually get it just right I hope to have a specific texture and flavor balance that makes me happy, and hopefully it will look good, too.  However, to be honest, the appearance isn't nearly so important to me as the other elements.  Some of my tweaks have resulted in very interesting, even messy, looking muffins, and sometimes even hard to pick up without getting too sticky.  So I keep tweaking, I keep going through more containers of blueberries, and every so often I pause for a while and return to the effort after some time has passed.  Sometimes those pauses result in an exciting idea for my next tweak.  Sometimes they just give me a reason to temporarily stop buying blueberries.

No matter the result of each tweak, I continue on -- adjusting, re-balancing, changing the recipe ever so slightly.  Some things come quickly, others take time.

Well, I'm going to finish this post and eat the last bit of bruschetta from yesterday's leftovers, and then read up on some baseball statistics as I think ahead to another round of baseball simulation soon.

Philosophy and sliced bread

sliced bread machine patent

Today is July 7th.  Do you know what the significance of this date is with respect to food?  Well, here it is.  

On July 7th, 1928, the Chillicothe Baking Company of Chillicothe, Missouri sold their first loaves of sliced bread processed by a bread-slicing machine designed and built by Otto Rohwedder.  This is the first documented occurrence of commercially-sold machine-sliced bread.  Within a short time other baking companies large and small started doing the same thing.  

Not many things are more convenient than a bag of sliced bread, and of course we are all familiar with that well-known phrase "the greatest thing since sliced bread", a phrase which so many of use to talk about how incredible something is.

I love the convenience of sliced bread as much as anyone, and although I make quite a bit of bread and slice it myself, I also have a favorite brand of sliced sandwich bread that I get with regularity at the grocery store  There is something quite nice about being able to quickly make a sandwich with a tasty bread that can pulled from the bag by the slice.  

However, there is also something nice about taking the time to slice a loaf of bread.  In our modern world, no one would argue that the availability of convenient food is a bad thing.  At the same time, though, one could argue that the less work we do in preparing and serving food, the easier it is to take it for granted and to have less and less of a psychological or emotional connection to the food we eat.

Prepackaged prepared foods are so important in our world, and not just because we are all so busy running around for most of the day trying to make a living, taking kids here and there, trying to find a way to do all the work that is expected of us and still take the time to eat.  They are also important for things like emergency disaster aid and relief and for keeping large stores of food available for those "just in case" moments in our lives.  There are so many ways our modern food systems are beneficial to our lives in our modern world.

But we are also missing something by not preparing so many of the things we eat.  We miss something by not taking the time to plan a meal, shop for the ingredients, cook it up, and serve it.  

What do we miss?  Well, I suppose that depends on the individual.  But certainly I believe that connection to the foods we eat is an important element of taking care of ourselves.  I know we can't all do that.  The world is a busy place that runs 24/7 for many of us.  But I hope we can all take a bit of time here and there to think about what we are eating even if it is prepared and prepackaged or, as in the case of that sandwich on the plate, pre-sliced.

Rhapsody in pudding

chocolate and sweet cream pudding parfait cups

Who doesn't love pudding?  Maybe there is someone, someplace, perhaps in a far away land in a make-believe world, who doesn't care for it.  But I can't imagine anyone not liking it.  If you don't like one flavor, there are many others to choose from.  But the creaminess, the texture, the possibilities for so many flavors and flavor combinations ... well, all of this adds up to a special simple little dessert.  

I love things made with milk and cream.  For many people their drink of choice when they are tired and worn out might be a beer or a wine cooler.  For me, it's always been milk.  When I feel like something "stronger", I go for chocolate milk.  Well, in my estimation chocolate pudding is like chocolate milk, only thicker.  I love all sorts of flavors, though, not just chocolate.  I made mango pudding once.  I enjoyed it, although it was new to me and I filed the recipe away as something to look at again in the future and tweak and learn to understand how to improve my technique in making it.  I once saw a recipe for green tea pudding.  "Interesting," I said out loud to myself, but I didn't give it a try -- perhaps in the future sometime.  Butterscotch pudding is a great flavor, but I've yet to master it with a strong enough flavor that I'm satisfied with it -- again, perhaps in time.  There are so many flavors to choose from.  It's like trying to read all the great books in a library.  You can make pudding with countless flavors and combinations.

The picture above shows a new addition to the full menu at www.brucebakeryandbistro.com.  I like making these pudding parfait cups.  They are just the right size for a little snack.  And I love the homemade flavor more than what is found in store-bought commercially-manufactured mass-produced pudding cups.  I make these with traditional vanilla sweet cream and alternatively with almond sweet cream.  Almond sweet cream is a favorite addition of mine to many desserts.  The infusion of almond extract into traditional sweet cream makes for an astounding change, at least to me.  

I love the appearance of these cups as well.  They remind me of Holstein cows spotted in fields that one passes when they are out for a drive in a country setting.  I suppose in the case of butterscotch pudding, the cow would be a Jersey.  With mango pudding ... my knowledge of cow breeds is not sufficient to enable me to pair one up with that.  With the green-tea pudding I mentioned earlier?  Well, that would be one bizarre looking cow, at least for what we are used to seeing  in our world.  Maybe in that make-believe world where that pudding-non-conformist exists one might find a cow breed for that comparison.

I am happy to have added these pudding parfait cups to the menu.  I hope you will give them a try when they are offered on one of the weekly rotating menus.

Have a great weekend everyone and have a safe and healthy Fourth of July.